Weeping Angels
by Ellered
Summary: Nelo Angelo: the beginning. Chapter 3 is battle between Mundus and Vergil, as ending for dmc3. Vergil and Dante battle in dmc1. My take of what happened. Now complete.
1. An Angel Weeps

_A/N: Warning, Vergil here, as I tried to write him, lacks the emotion of his brother in DMC3, and I feel that Vergil has always been the 'cold blooded devil' he portrays in the games - right up untill he turns Nelo Angelo. But, he hides his emotions well. I think, he's always outwardly cold, but deeply he's full of human weaknesses. In the end scene, of the 3rd chapter, the battle scene is a description of when Dante fought Mundus in DMC1. I tried to depict how it would have been if Vergil fought Mundus on the same 'level'._

_Enjoy._

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**_NELO ANGELO: The beginning

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He never took his life for granted. With every action he executed, it was always with thought – never emotion. That's what he believed.

_So why was he awashed in his own blood, laying there like a broken angel, having had his wings ripped off of him?_

Blinking back hot tears,Vergil felt his immune system kicking in, trying to fight off against the disease that was now infesting throughout his entire body.

He was being blessed with what he had always wanted_: more_ _power._

"You think you could defeat me, son of Sparda?" A voice thundered all around him, enclosing him in a suffocating black embrace.

It was _him_, that vermin his father defeated many years before.

As thoughts of his defeat slowly took hold of him, he found himself wanting to commit the ultimate act: _Suicide._

It was the only _honorable _thing to do. A true warrior did that - to further stop the shame of defeat.

His father would have been disappointed in him, in this trounce, but as he tried to rise – hot white pain pinched _every vein_, engulfing his senses. He growled out, sounding like an animal beaten to death. The hurts he received were starting to heal; it was something his own body adjusted to since he was awakened years ago.

"Come to me, Nelo Angelo. And kneel before me."

The voice of his father's enemy was stern, rumbled like a menacing cloud, and as his healing began to kick in, Vergil could feel his own blood flowing out of him. Mundus was stealing some of his blood and was using all the crimson-dark liquid that had been spilt on the unhallowed ground beneath him. This was his way of sustaining ultimate power and control.

He had lost so much blood that he could have sworn he had no more….

"Your blood is too tainted with your mother's," Mundus said, disgust plainly there, and the devil king retreated into his own personal space – back into the darkness, with only three bright red spots showing. The devil king was patient with Sparda's son. There was plenty of time to plan for revenge and victory over humanity.

"You are now my servant, son of Sparda. Now, like your father, you will rise to your place – as my right hand."

Vergil though pained beyond belief that he should bow before Sparda's worst enemy, had to follow his honor.

As the half-human rose with trembling legs, his hands bloodied from the fight, they tried to hold on to the Yamato, using it for support.

And something unbelievable happened.

Vergil kneeled before Mundus, "As my honor demands, I shall follow you."

If Mundus could be seen, one would have seen a grinning shapeless creature – for Mundus had _no_ body. He had never had one, using only the created statues to hide in; to use for when he had to battle and generate the hellish powers that he had acquired for centuries.

"Then you won't mind if I use your mother's amulet, Nelo Angelo."

Vergil stiffened visibly and before he could respond, the red and gold memento pulled away from his neck and was sent to the darkness there – where red eyes inspected the precious piece. The amulet floated in the air before the Underworld's lord, for when it came too close - it brought a surprising electrical shock. It was pure, white hot-yellow, like the golden sun that he could never touch. Taking care of this, he had to be wise to the human woman's gift to her son. He had planned this beforehand; it was now the time to fire the salvo.

"I shall need this – to create a mother for you."

Stunned, all that Eva's offspring could offer was silence and the noiseless rage hidden in the depths of his blue grey eyes simmered.

"You wanted a mother; I shall create as many as you want, Nelo Angelo." Mundus then laughed, a harsh cracked noise resounded the heavens from above – challenging angels and his own kind. "And we shall make a plan, a plan to take over humanity again and kill your brother. He poses a threat because it is he – _not you_ that your mother loved **more**."

Mundus dismissed Vergil, sending him to the farther areas of hell, where once a dimension that housed a previous Castilian lived and died. The previous hell demon- human's soul had diminished, leaving nothing but the suffering memories of the past. Mundus had hoped that the last comment had inspired something akin to anger and revenge in his new recruit.

He could not see the tear rolling down Sparda's son saturnine cheek. The devil king would not have known what_ that_ would be for – it was the last time, _the very last time Vergil cried._


	2. Of Loyalties and Mothers

**LOYALTY & MOTHERS**

_You lost a mother and a brother to **evil **twenty years ago – Trish DMC1_

xXx

His mother wasn't dead; she was _supposedly_ killed off ten years before.

Now, she was standing here, right in front of him. He woke up to find her standing by his bedpost. Her hair the same golden length he remembered as a child. She walked towards him, with her arms outstretched.

"We're now part of his _family,_ Vergil."

The way she said 'family', it rang false; Mundus would never consider them as such. She didn't have the comforting tone of his mother, but it was his mother's voice nonetheless.

"I'm no longer Eva, Nelo, as you are not the Vergil you once were."

He sat up, a tremor ran through his body, and he pushed himself up against the bed's head frame. Vergil gritted his teeth; he found to his disconcertment that he had no voice, and she laughed.

"It's time for your training, dear boy." She was wearing something very revealing: black and tight, hugging all her curves. _God's blood, but his mother was hot. _

Vergil growled, his body coursed with vibrant blue fire and this imposter had been transformed with the energies of her own.

"I'm immortal now. I'm blessed with the power of Mundus's creation, and can now rival any demon my way." The way she spoke, with such conviction, pride and honor that he had to restrain from reaching out to her lily white neck to choke the life out of her. He didn't know what was worse – to see his mother imprisoned in the encasement of Mundus's manipulation – a mere puppet, or to see her back as a miserable human. Knowing that she could never save herself or her sons from his enemy, she was reduced to this.

"But you…" she whispered, almost sadly, "You have still half human blood inside you."

He groaned, tried to find his amulet and found it to his relief that it still was around his neck. Mundus could never touch this. It was too powerful or was it power that held him back? Only he knew the true power behind his mother's amulet. Not Dante, not Mundus, not anyone. Not even this woman who bears his mother's face.

"I'm not going to be a mother to you, Vergil. I don't possess any of those nurturing aspects you might have missed."

_I don't need a goddamn mother!_ He wanted to scream that out to her – but his voice was lost.

"You need to release your Black Knight armor when your rage is down, Vergil. Go to your mirror – there." She pointed at the glass reflection next to the door. "You can transform back to your 'normal' human side, and you can have your voice back."

Rising, he walked slowly to the shimmering reflection there – it harbored so much evil, _so much so that it was just like him_. As he stood in front of it, he found to his chagrin, the transformation of his glorious self.

A seductive smile replaced the former grim line; the grin of evil stared back at him.

For ten years they planned, living together cacophonously until the day the gates were opened up. _Again._

Vergil turned evil ten years before, the same time his mother did. That fateful night in the cemetary pushed his young mind to the edge. There, the demons would infect him with notions of hate and unrivaled power. _Take your father's power, young man, and you will never want of anything_.

But, as fate would have it, Mundus planned to have Eva hidden until it was time. His first salvo was Vergil, because the first born had already turned to the side of evil as a child. Blind ambition would guide him and take him to his true home, to his father's. The plan would be to take the second son into their fold when the time was ripe. Opening up the demon world would be the key. Infecting the ambitious human Arkham wasn't hard; he already owned such a restless spirit, and a more obsessive mind for the dark arts. _Would love conquer all?_

As fate would have it, the interruption of another human had waylaid many of his plans. Instead of following Vergil, as he hoped Dante would have done – that meddling Mary had shoved her way into the fold to disrupt them. Dante chose a side. _Humans._

Because this youngest was protected by his mother's love years before, Mundus must take care. Taking away the mother from the children was the first step to accomplishing his goal. _But, this one had a lucky streak_. It wasn't any woman that would find his interest,to make him change his mind. It was a _certain _woman who did it. Mundus had tried to bring the younger of Sparda's boys to _evil_, and he had almost come close – Dante **_was_** indifferent. He didn't care what side he chose.

_That was dangerous._

Not choosing a side - it was easier for any ruler to try and manipulate their subjects to submission. _If _he could get both the sons of Sparda, he could rule the world as was before. Nothing could stop him with_ them_ by his side. To be a powerful ruler, one must have powerful and loyal subjects; his army was near completion.

And one thing was certain - he didn't like his brother. That was a _huge strike against_ Vergil, and the other was that he didn't like his father. _Strike two._

But if Vergil showed him the true power - the power that he could posess_. He may change his mind._

_Vergil must awaken him; to show Dante what they could have._

He may like his true inheritance, and he could enjoy the power and join forces_...it's what Mundus was counting on**...but...**_

_Dante had chosen_.

Damn Mary. Damn Eva before her. It was time to kill the boy.

It was time to send his valuable weapon: Trish.


	3. Only Angels Cry

**Notes:** because I wanted to show why Vergil clutched his head in dmc1, or rather Nelo, (Mundus calls him _Vergil _as well)so it's here. Yes, it's _finally_ complete. Thanks for the feedback. It's much appreciated.

For those who have played the games; you'll recognize the insert here with the battle scene in DMC1 with Mundus, but this time it's Vergil.

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**_Only Angels Weep: Flashback_**

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"Am I being defeated?" Vergil said that _before_ – when his brother fought with him in a respectable battle.

He was furious with himself. To lose to his brother was insulting enough, but to lose to this disgusting pile of filth; it was enough to make him choke on the human blood he had and drown in it.

_Trickery! Mundus cheated! _

His mouth foamed with blood; the trickle of dark scarlet liquid now covered his chin and neck, soaking his blue attire. The taste of metallic liquid scorched his insides; it was eating him alive.

_The battle was ruthless. _

"Again, I must face a Sparda….," was that what the Dark Lord said? He couldn't remember anymore – _he was dying fast_. The ferocity of his pain was taking its toil, altering him, mutating him and the one thing that kept him alive? _The Amulet. _

The influence of the amulet was keeping his soul alive.

The glacial blue eyes, wet with the sting of pain gazed menacingly back at his adversary. "You're no match for the Son of Sparda." Arrogant words, but then again, Vergil was nothing less than.

Elegantly flipping his sword, it swished with a silky hum, in spite of his harsh breathing and the pounding of his heart. Vergil summoned more of his strength, producing limitless mystical swords out of thin air; they followed his direction, his anger, and command.

He walked with the air of his father, facing the Dark lord; Vergil metamorphosed, changed into a powerful demon. His skin darkened granite grey, dark brick colored blood lined his face, obscuring any beauty he ever had, and the silky strands colored darkly as white washed charcoal.

When they fought; the hallucination of planets surrounded them, encasing them in the flashes of devils power. They reflected the souls of the damned; complementing the universe but a fake mirror image of what was true.

The entire realm warped, shifted, accommodating their battle with moaning cries of damned souls;Vergil's vision focused as the peripheral skyscrape fell like red hot daggers.

Witnessing the ground beneath him throb,Vergil saw more of Mundus's armies rising to attack. The half-devil's lightning-fast flurry of cuts pushed back the foes, stabbing them with the mystical blue swords.

"You're not worthy to be my opponent." He bit out, but ignored the growing fatigue. The enemies disintegrated – melting into the ground only to come back up and Mundus laughed.

After being hit by several stinging fire balls and rising lava directed his way,Vergil's wet silver strands lay against his eyes, and he could hear his heavy rasping. He flipped his white hair back, the ends curling around his sweaty temples; focusing on his prey, he charged with his Yamato.

Avoiding the bevy of bitter rain falling in deadly sheets, Vergil slid violently over, rolling to find himself behind a boulder; immediately it obliterated from the powerful surge of fireballs the Dark Lord sent.

This was his chance.

Little by little, his own body couldn't generate more power – acidic rain was pulverizing his body; the mirage of swords materializing to eliminate forming planets, but were quickly replaced by more.

A sound of a piercing wail shifted his attention – it was then Vergil saw something that could break or save him.

The dormant dragon from the fires of hell flew out of the boiling river, swooping up into the crimson sky. The creature went down in a smooth arc, scorching souls and eating them alive. With its attack, it rendered the half devil's power nearly null.

"Ungh…" Vergil pushed himself up, his vision blurred, finding to his angry dismay, his former human façade was back up – he lifted his bloodied hand, pulling his Yamato towards him, and looked into it. Blue-glacial eyes stared back at him and his aquiline features hardened with fury.

He saw the dragon. The luminous fire beast floated along the rim of the lava, and Mundus started summoning up his energy again. The mouth of the mystical hellish demon opened wide to blast another round at Sparda's son, but his smaller opponent flicked his wrist – throwing the Yamato into it's mouth.

Capturing it, this created a noiseless bang upon explosion - of mystical hidden healing power to the half demon, and saved his life.

The battle went on for what would have been eons.

**_End Flashback _**

"Vergil. Your brother is coming home. Make his welcome complete, and _**destroy **_him."

Mundus said those words to him, using a telepathic power in the half devil's head.

Trish anticipantly smacked her lips together, sticking her leather hip out; her other comrades were preparing for the battle to come. If Vergil was as dangerous to the Dark Lord before, then his sibling may pose a certain threat. Their loyalty to the Prince of Darkness would be tested against the traitor's son.

But they underestimated the younger twin.

"Go, Trish, and find the boy. Bring him to us."

She stood before him, gazing up at the statue. She was used to Mundus hiding behind some corporeal form; he lacked the physical body. Bowing before her master, she then raised her bright head; her blue eyes stayed steady and lifeless. "Yes, my lord."

When Dante made it to the Black Knight's lair, finding a mirror before him, the younger twin was expecting this.

A doppelganger pushed out of the evil energy of the mirror, facing his brother, circling each other; the immortal color of silver, and their piercing blue eyes wanted some justice. Both in their own way. Twins – one good, fighting for humanity, and the other – loyalty and principle bound his pride. _Pride: the greatest sin of all._

"This stinkin' hole is the last place I thought I would find anyone with some guts and **honor**!" Dante spat out.

Transforming, Vergil's armor materialized, encasing his once former silver crown with horns like his father. There was an aura of great evil formulating around his body, and because of his pride as a warrior, the elder twin beckoned the other into the battlefield, disappearing outside where only demons could venture.

Dante found that fighting with Nelo Angelo was harder than he thought; the beam of bright glowing blue attacks sent the younger one rolling on the ground and flying away.

It was when they came in close contact – sword to sword clanging; the new melee' weapon in Dante's hand fended off his brother's. It was the power of Sparda that coursed through Vergil that pushed him.

On the third teleportation, Nelo used his close combat skills minus the sword to end his brother's life.

Dante was struggling, choking, feeling the vise grip of the armored hand clasp around his neck. The amulet fell out of his red jacket –

_Vergil! Stop! You must not do this to your brother! You're killing him!_

The woman's voice pleaded in Nelo's head. It was his mother – not the one who transformed into that imposter, but the gentle human woman who once rocked him to sleep, telling him that she loved him so very much.

The pain was intense; it felt like a thousand splashes of holy water twisting his black soul.

He released his brother, a beast's growl escaped his lips and Vergil flew away – to get away from the human pain he tried so hard to fight against. The cancerous human emotions his mother placed in his heart, now cold and dead.

In the empty darkness, Vergil waited there - a lifeless puppet loyal to his father's enemy.

He was too arrogant to go back to the human world; he would never last there without ruthlessly killing the humans who festered. Vergil would have tolerated the darkness, would have lived an eternity there. How could he go on like this, when his mother called out to him crying?

"Mother…" he rasped in the black void. "Forgive me..."

Some where in his younger brother's amulet, there lies the original human heart of a woman who cried for her sons.Vergil's half of the amulet was dormant, cold and barren just like his soul. _Yet protected him from dying all these years._

Now it was complete and it burned brighter than any star. It now belonged to the only son who was worthy to save the world. _His mother was an angel_; his brother followed in her footsteps - honed with the power of their father's curse.

Nelo would not cry.

He couldn't, _because only Angels weep._


End file.
